


The	Infallible Youth

by Alyssa_bird



Series: Yellow Summers Series [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid!Lock, Kidlock, M/M, Sherlock AU, Sherlock/ Moonrise Kingdom AU, sherlock crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_bird/pseuds/Alyssa_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve year old John and Sherlock send Constable Lestrade and the Holmes' on a wild goose chase when they run away together in the summer of 1965.</p><p>NOTE: If you are a new reader you might want to go to Part One if you want to understand this part of the installment!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The	Infallible Youth

**Author's Note:**

> Part three of the Yellow Summers series.

While Sherlock was safely tucked away in his bed, John was sitting at Constable Lestrade's tiny dinner table. 

"I knew we would get in trouble, but I didn't care. I had to leave." John was picking at the macaroni and cheese Constable Lestrade had made for him.

"Why did you have to leave?" Asks the Constable, taking a slug from his beer bottle.

"I figured I'd be better off living on my own than with my foster parents."

"So you dragged the Holmes boy along? Listen, John. I don't think you understand the severity of what you two did. You could've killed yourselves out there!" Constable Lestrade implores, pounding his fist on the table. 

"I don't think you understand, Constable." John challenges.

"What?"

"I don't think you've ever understood what it was like to be lost and thrown away, again and again. Only to be found by someone who loves you and would keep you forever," Constable Lestrade leans back in his chair, dumbfounded by the young boy's words. "Sherlock found me when I was lost."

The Constable was quiet for a moment, "Is that what it feels like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is that what being an orphan feels like? Lost?" He asks, feeling a great sadness for the yellow-haired boy. 

John nods, "Absolutely."

_____

Back at Camp Ivanhoe, a group of Sand Crab Scouts were sitting in a circle, immersed in a game of bridge. 

"I heard that Watson kid is a queer and Holmes is his boyfriend!"

"No way, not a chance. Watson may be mental, but he ain't no fruit."

"Oh, really? Because I heard that Scout Master Stamford and a bunch of other adults found Watson and Holmes in a tent - alone."

"Well, I heard that it wasn't-"

"It doesn't matter!" A voice yells from the far left of the circle.

The boys all turn to look at who had made the commotion, Scout Moran. 

"It doesn't matter, what goes on between them is their problem," He began. "However, what happens to Watson is our business. I heard Scout Master Stamford say Watson's foster parents don't want him back. They're gonna end up sending him to a juvenile facility. We can't let that happen."

Moran stands up slowly, making sure to make direct eye contact with every Scout.

"We have not been adequate Sand Crab Scouts. In fact, we were big, mean jerks to Watson! Now we can redeem ourselves! We can save him!"

"How?" Asks a dark-skinned boy sitting just to the left of Moran.

"I have a plan."

_____

A heavy rain has begun to fall on the island of Penzance, making the summer night unbearably humid. Lighting is to be expected.

Mrs. Holmes lay wide awake in her bed. A terrible feeling clawing away at her insides, she couldn't help it. Something was wrong, she just felt it.

She also couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock had said to her. She dismissed it, Sherlock was still just a child. Still innocent. She was probably just making mountain out of a molehill. 

But still...

Getting out of bed ever so slowly, not wishing to wake up Mr. Holmes, she tiptoes out of bed and makes her way down the hall to Sherlock's room. 

She opens the door with a slight creak and peeks her head inside. She just wants to make sure he was still in bed. Mrs. Holmes squints her eyes to allow herself to see better in the darkness. She sees the small form of a body curled up into its side. 

The sight of her sleeping child warms her heart. Perhaps she could sneak just a tiny little kiss on forehead? She hardly got to do that anymore. Just one kiss couldn't hurt...

As she got closer to the lump, Mrs. Holmes noticed something a bit off - the lump wasn't moving. It wasn't even breathing!

Mrs. Holmes yanked the blanket off the bed only to find that someone had stuffed Sherlock's bed with pillows. Sherlock was no where to be found.

"He's done it again!" Mrs. Holmes shrieks, loud enough to wake the entire house. "He's run away again!" 

_____

The rain began to beat down heavily, John listens to it. Constable Lestrade had let the boy sleep in his room while he slept on the pullout couch in the living room. John restlessly tosses and turns on the squeaky mattress, unable to sleep. He keeps thinking about Sherlock, will he ever see him again? Will they be able to write? Was that the last time he will ever see him?

John was finally beginning to drift off when a small tap, tap, tap roused him from bed. The sound was coming from the window.

Tap, tap, tap!

The taps were louder this time, more insistent. 

John walks over to the large window where the taps are coming from. He slowly lifts the ugly, yellow curtain to find himself face to face with Scout Moran. 

"Open the window!" Scout Moran mouths.

John complies and the roar of the storm filters into the room.

"Get your things and come on! We're saving you!" Scout Moran said as loudly as he dared, not wishing to wake the Constable. 

John shakes his head, "Forget it. Thanks anyways but I've caused enough trouble."

"You sure? We got a surprise for you..." 

Moran moves out of the way and the gleaming face of Sherlock takes his place. 

"Sherlock!" John gasps.

"Stop being an idiot and get your stuff!" Sherlock says hurriedly. "We haven't much time!"

"How did you get here?"

"One of the Scouts climbed up my window and snuck me down the laundry shoot and out the back door. Quite clever, I must say. Hurry!"

The two boys share a quick smile before John disappears to grab his canvas bag.

_____

The frantic pounding on Constable Lestrade's door jolts him from his sleep, he quickly shoots out of bed and runs to the front door. He opens the door to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Holmes in their pajamas, sopping wet on his doorstep.

"Sherlock is gone again. Where is John?" Mrs. Holmes says in an almost calm, deadly monotone. 

"Shit!" Exclaims Constable Lestrade. 

They all follow Lestrade to the room farthest down the hallway. The Constable throws the door open only to find the bed empty and the window wide open, the yellow curtain halfway hanging out of it.

_____

"I guess this is it then," Scout Moran says to John.

Sherlock and the other Scouts were a little ways off the deserted dirt road, they were adjusting the canvas bag on his back and briefing him on the basics of handling a Boy Scout knife. 

"I guess so. Thanks for all the help, mate."

"Keep in touch will ya?"

"Of course," 

"Listen, John..." Scout Moran starts, unsure. "Whatever it is between you two," He gestures towards Sherlock. "It's...okay. It's all right. My brother is the same way and he's captain of the football team! He doesn't know that I know. I found out because I saw him kissing another boy from the debate team in my tree house. But hey, who I am to judge what kind of person you want to kiss?" 

"Promise you won't tell?" John begs, looking Moran straight in the eye.

"Promise. As long as you keep your mouth shut about my brother."

"Deal."

They shake on it.

The Scouts watch as Sherlock and John make their way down the paved road on bikes. They had given them food rations and almost three dollars in change, mostly in nickels.

____

"The rain is too heavy!" Sherlock yells over his shoulder, the rain plopping violently onto both their heads. "We'll never make it! We have to stop somewhere for the night!" 

"We have no where to go!" John yells back.

The boys stop, it is half past midnight and the streets of the small island were dead. Sherlock presses a finger to his lips, thinking. 

"I know a place we can go."

Sherlock turns his bike and rides in a new direction, John dutifully follows. Sherlock leads him back to St. Bartholomew's Church, where he and John first met.

"Come on!" Sherlock yells, jumping off his bike and running towards the church.

John flinches as lighting cracks over head. Sherlock was running towards the back entrance of the church when John caught up to him.

"Mrs. Hudson always forgets to lock the back door, always," Sherlock explains. "We can stay in the church until the rain stops."

They reach the back door and Sherlock turns the knob open without trouble, he smiles to himself before pulling John in behind him. The only sound inside the church is their breathing and rain dripping from their clothes to the wooden floorboards. 

"Follow me," Sherlock tugs on John's sodden shirt and drags him to main room of the church. It was almost scary, seeing all those pews empty. 

"We'll be safe here." Sherlock says. He notices John staring at the huge statue of the crucifix.

"Why do you think everyone believes in him so much?" John whispers.

"They're all just a bunch of helpless people who need to believe in something greater than themselves to help get them through the day. He's like a hero, everyone likes heros." Sherlock explains, sitting on a pew.

"So he's like a hero?"

"Exactly. Everyone wants to believe in a hero  don't they?"

Both boys lean against one another on a pew and listen to the rainfall outside, John clutching Sherlock's hand tighter when he hears the loud boom of thunder. 

Sherlock assures him that everything will be okay, and John believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> Major apologies for the hiatus! I'm back now, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
